Nikhil's Blog

Underachieving is a myth

The world is facing a military-grade crisis, in my opinion, where fertility rates have fallen to alarming levels. Our overall mental health is deteriorating. More and more young women believe it's better to create an OnlyFans account, display their bodies to strangers, and make money rather than follow a traditional career path. There’s a sudden influx of influencers on social media—everyone wants to be a creator.

But underneath all of this is a simple desire: to be free of the rat race. Not just freedom from corporate culture or reporting to a boss, but freedom from worrying about grocery money every month. That’s why some people would rather scam others on the internet by selling useless courses than genuinely learn a skill and build something of value. But why the urgency? Why is everyone rushing to achieve everything all at once?

People feel inferior watching their peers living luxurious lives, seemingly outclassing them. They fall into the false belief that they’ve fallen behind in some arbitrary race that only exists in their minds. You see your buddy buying a new car, a new home, traveling to exotic places, and you wonder—what did I do wrong to deserve this? And to make matters worse, if you have a nagging partner, then God help your self-respect.

Why does achieving anything matter so much to us? Why is it so important to own a piece of hardware, a piece of land, or to showcase that we have loads of money? Why is it so important to experience every form of luxury out there? We don’t even want these luxuries for ourselves—we want them because someone else has them. And now we want them too, just to signal that we aren’t doing so badly. We're playing a sophisticated status game, and the only ones having fun are the crony corporations.

People in their thirties are the most anxious generation yet. They believe they had so much potential in their twenties, and they still reminisce about it while worrying about their forties. They feel they haven’t achieved anything worthwhile, and then they pick the most outlier example—someone doing incredibly well—and compare themselves to that. It’s worse when that successful person is a close friend. The envy can eat you alive.

Imagine a scenario where you become a millionaire in your twenties—but here’s the catch: all your peers are millionaires too. Now, think about it—does it make you feel any different? We’re not chasing wealth because we need it; we’re chasing it because we want to feel good about ourselves. But we can't feel good unless that feeling is validated by some external metric, a worldly benchmark on which others can rate us.

Let’s twist the earlier scenario. You're a millionaire, but nobody knows you exist. You can spend your money, but no one notices. You're the only one who knows. On the surface, it might seem ideal—anonymous wealth—but the truth is, most people would still do something to show off that affluence. They’d buy a flashy car, a big house, a shiny object—something to signal their importance.

We constantly chase status in society because we want to feel good about ourselves. That’s why we’ve never paused to question why certain achievements must happen in a certain decade. Why can’t someone succeed in their fifties instead of their forties? I understand the need to plan for children and work within biological constraints, but for everything else that’s manmade—a social construct—why can’t we redefine it? If we can challenge God, surely we can challenge societal norms.

We are a generation without major goals, other than saving an enormous amount of money. Ask anyone what they want out of life, and 8 out of 10 will say "a million dollars" or something money-related. Of course, money is important—it’s one of life’s basic necessities. But it shouldn’t be your lifelong goal. You don’t say, “I want to eat delicious food for a lifetime.” You just know it’s a necessity, and you’ll manage it throughout your life without obsessing over it.

We lack a solid foundation in goal-setting. We lack a grand purpose. And sadly, we've centered our entire existence around money, which inevitably leads to status-chasing—because without a higher purpose, money is only useful for flaunting. That’s why rich people often say they’re lonely, while poor people accuse them of hypocrisy, thinking, “If they have money, why are they unhappy?” To someone struggling financially, it’s hard to understand that money is merely a tool—and if you have no idea what to do with that tool, you’ll likely live a miserable life.

One must have meaningful goals—goals that aren’t bound by any age bracket. Will your mom love you any less if you earn a little less? Will God hate you for not buying that expensive villa? Will you hate yourself for being passionate about a project that only pays enough for a comfortable life instead of affording you the latest Tesla?

I write my essays as if a thousand readers are eagerly waiting for them to drop. But I don’t stop writing—even if it doesn’t make me rich—because it’s the one thing I love the most. I don’t worry about money. I know I’ll live comfortably. Maybe not affluently like some of my peers, but I’ll be content, and that’s enough.

You never see a rich person regretting that they didn’t get rich in their twenties or thirties. That’s because it doesn’t matter. It only matters to a society obsessed with chasing status rather than purpose. There are no age limits to achievement. The limitations are self-imposed, created to measure everyone by the same yardstick and to label those who don’t meet the timeline as failures. But how absurd is that? To be called a failure when you haven’t even lived half your life—and of that half, 70% was spent just acquiring education and learning how to function in the world.

If you’re feeling inferior because your peers have done better, know this: you’re playing a status game. And it’s foolish to believe that life’s purpose is to make loads of money so you can swim in private pools and sleep with expensive hookers in exotic locations. The primary focus in life must be a grand vision—a purpose that keeps you going. Sure, have mini-goals along the way. But your life’s purpose can only be one or two core things.

Get out of the rat race. You don’t have to pressure yourself into buying a home, a car, or traveling just to look successful on social media. Don’t condemn yourself to a life of long-term misery. Build a grand purpose that makes you genuinely happy. A comfortable life, free from status games and filled with meaningful pursuit, is far better than the life of a rat running to impress society.